In the Middle of Nowhere
by Deana
Summary: Aramis and Porthos disappear and end up in the middle of nowhere. Aramis is unconscious and won't wake up, and Porthos has no idea where they are and can't find anyone to help. Will the others somehow manage to find them? (Modern AU and my entry in the 'Fete des Mousquetaires' contest for July/August.)
1. Missing

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In the Middle of Nowhere  
A Musketeers modern AU story by Deana

My entry in the 'Fete des Mousquetaires' contest for July/August: 'Missing'.

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Porthos opened his eyes, blinking with confusion when he found himself alone in the dark. He didn't remember going to bed, but he winced at the unexpected headache that filled his skull and closed his eyes again, not caring what time it was and wanting to simply go back to sleep. He drifted for a few seconds before realizing that his bed was supposed to be _soft_, not hard like a floor.

In an instant, Porthos was sitting upright, hands going to his pockets and finding no phone or car keys. He looked around what he found to be some old, abandoned shack without any windows, and when he turned to the left, his eyes opened wider.

Aramis was laying a few feet away, not moving.

With a gasp, Porthos scurried over to him and put his fingers against the pulse in his neck. He found it, but it seemed abnormally slow. "Aramis?" he said, gently shaking him.

There was no effect.

Porthos checked his friend for injuries and found nothing; not even a bump on his head. Examining himself yielded the same results, telling him that they'd likely been drugged.

Aramis' phone and keys were missing too, and he showed no signs of waking despite more prodding, so Porthos tried to make him as comfortable as he could and stood, intending to find out where they were. He came upon a flight of stairs and climbed them, to find that they'd been left in a cellar, which had made it seem darker than it actually was. There was only one door, and Porthos crept over to it quietly and grasped the knob. It turned easily, and he opened it a crack and looked outside.

All he could see was grass, trees, and bright sunlight. There wasn't a single sound except for birds singing, so he opened the door a little wider and stuck his head out before walking just outside the door.

Porthos was struck by the scenery; beautiful, calm, and serene. It was definitely before noon, as he could tell by the position of the sun, and the temperature was comfortable, unlike the heat wave that had gripped New York City for the past few days.

Porthos walked around the shack, realizing that there were no vehicles or houses as far as he could see. He and Aramis appeared to be in the middle of nowhere, but he couldn't understand why.

Just as he turned to go back inside to check on his friend, he caught something out the corner of his eye.

Two cell phones were lying on the ground.

Shocked, Porthos ran over and grabbed them, finding that they belonged to him and Aramis. Their car keys and wallets were scattered nearby—with everything still inside!—and now Porthos was even more baffled. He quickly unlocked his phone, to find that there was no signal. Trying Aramis' was no luck, and his battery was almost dead, so Porthos shut that one off and stuck it into his pocket before going back inside the shack.

Aramis was just as Porthos had left him; laying unconscious, having not moved.

Porthos knelt beside him and sighed, wishing away his headache. It wasn't bad, thankfully, and the slight unsteadiness that had filled his brain upon waking was all but gone. He quickly searched the shack for any resources they could use, but found nothing. No running water, no food, nothing.

After trying to wake his friend one more time without success, Porthos finally sat Aramis up and pulled him over his shoulder, before making his way carefully up the stairs.

Cautious peeking out the door again showed that there was still no one around, so Porthos picked a direction and started to walk, hoping to find help.

Clouds suddenly covered the sun, and a light wind comfortably blew. It would've seemed like a perfect, beautiful day to Porthos…if he wasn't currently lost in the middle of nowhere with an unconscious friend.

"What is it with you, anyway?" Porthos said aloud. "Nappin' while I haul your butt who-knows-where. Wake up, will ya?"

No answer.

"Figures. Some help _you_ are," Porthos huffed.

After an hour, Porthos had to stop and put Aramis down. He laid him in the shade of a huge red Maple and patted his face.

"Hey Aramis, look, it's one of your favorite trees." He picked up a leaf and waved it in his friend's face. "See?" When nothing happened, he tickled Aramis' nose with it to see if it would wake him with a sneeze, but it didn't work.

Porthos sighed again, wishing that they had some water. "How do you get us into these messes?" he joked. "This has to be _your_ fault, because I'm sure that it ain't _mine_." He thought for a minute before saying, "Heh, we're cops, maybe it isn't _either_ of our fault."

Aramis remained quiet, eyes closed, breathing shallowly.

It was that last fact that Porthos suddenly realized, and he checked his friend's pulse again, still finding it very slow…even slower than before? "Hey, what's goin' on, here? Wake up!" He patted Aramis' face again and shook him, but he remained unconscious. With shock, Porthos realized that his assumption that his friend would wake up and be just fine, like he did, was apparently incorrect.

_Aramis needs a hospital,_ he thought._ And here I am just sittin' here! _

Porthos quickly picked Aramis up again and hurried on, not even knowing where he was going. "You better not die, Aramis, I mean it," he said, his voice choked-up. "I really mean it!" Porthos suddenly remembered that when he'd woken, he'd laid confused for a while, so he wondered if maybe Aramis _was_ awake but unable to respond yet. "If you're awake, say somethin'! Make a noise! Anything!"

But nothing happened.

Porthos sighed and continued to walk, holding onto the dangling-over-his-shoulder Aramis with one arm, and checking his cell phone signal in his other hand.

It was another two hours before he was forced to stop walking again and he put Aramis down with a groan, stretching his aching shoulders before sitting and checking his friend.

Aramis was still deeply unconscious; his face pale with his pulse and breathing still too slow.

"They must've given you too much," Porthos said. "Of whatever they gave us." He suddenly remembered Aramis' hypothyroidism* and wondered if that had anything to do with it. "Crap!" he said. "You missed your pill today!"

Aramis remained motionless.

Porthos dropped his face into his hands, suddenly realizing that his headache was gone. He stretched his shoulders again before lifting his friend and walking on. "I wonder what the others are doin' right now," he said aloud. "Lookin' all over New York City for us. I wonder if any clues were left behind. What do _you_ think?"

Silence.

Porthos sighed. "I figured you had no answer, but you can't blame a man for tryin' anyway, right?"

More silence.

"Yeah yeah yeah, rub it in," Porthos sarcastically said.

For the next four hours, Porthos continued to carry Aramis to seemingly nowhere; all he found was grass, trees, and more grass and trees.

"Where the heck _are_ we?!" he asked Aramis.

No answer.

"This is ridiculous!" Porthos exclaimed. He checked his phone again, and still had no signal. His charge had dropped to 25%, and he inwardly prayed that he would get a signal before it died.

A half hour later, he suddenly heard a noise, and he looked around, but didn't see anything. It took him a moment to realize that it had come from his friend.

"Aramis?" he called, as he put him down again. "Aramis! Look at me!" He patted his face, and was rewarded by seeing his friend's eyes move under his lids. "Don't stop there!" he encouraged. "Open your eyes, Aramis! Right now!"

Aramis could hear a muffled, far away voice, but he was unable to understand or react to it. His eyes stopped moving and he never opened them.

"Don't you dare pass back out!" Porthos said. "I ain't playin', here! Wake up!"

But Aramis didn't.

"Argh!" Porthos exclaimed. It took him a few seconds to at least be glad that Aramis had _almost_ woken…it meant that he wasn't dying…he hoped. "You're gonna give me a heart attack," he complained. In despair, he sat there for a few minutes before finally continuing on.

The sudden sound of his phone ringing a few minutes later startled the life out of him, and he nearly dropped Aramis as he fumbled to hit the speakerphone button. "Athos!"

"Porthos!" the voice answered. "Where are you? Is Aramis with you?"

"Yes!" Porthos answered. "I have no idea where we are! Someone kidnapped us and dropped us in the middle of nowhere!"

"Are you both all right?" Treville's voice asked.

"_I_ am, but Aramis isn't!" he answered as he put Aramis down and sat beside him. "I woke up on the floor of a shack this mornin' with Aramis beside me, but he hasn't woken at all! I've been carryin' him all day tryin' to find help!"

"Carrying him where?" Athos asked.

"I dunno!" Porthos said. "All I see is grass and trees! No houses, no people!"

"We're trying to trace your phone," Athos told him. "But the signal is weak."

"I had no signal at _all_ until just now," Porthos said. "I'm afraid to move and lose it again!"

"Stay put," said Treville. "Tell us about Aramis."

Porthos sighed. "I can only assume that we were drugged," he said. "I woke up with a headache that's gone now, but he hasn't woken. He stirred like ten minutes ago, but passed out without openin' his eyes. His breathin' is shallow and his pulse is slow." He paused to take a breath. "He's really scarin' me."

"Have you any food or water?" Athos asked.

"Nothin' all day," said Porthos.

"No water in this heat?" he heard d'Artagnan say.

"It's not that hot," said Porthos. "Wherever I am, the weather has been pretty nice today."

"You're not in New York City, then!" said d'Artagnan.

Porthos shook his head. "I'm sure we're not."

Suddenly, he heard d'Artagnan's voice say to someone, 'What? Seriously?'

"Porthos," said Athos. "You're in Canada."

"What?!"

"Just over the border, near Vermont," said Treville. "Whatever direction you're walking in, you're going the wrong way."

Porthos dropped his face into his hand. "This really isn't my day."

"We're coming to get you," Treville told him. "By helicopter."

"Shouldn't I still look for help though?" Porthos asked. "Aramis obviously needs a doctor!"

Treville sighed. "How much battery power do you still have?"

"Twenty-four percent," said Porthos. "Aramis' only had thirty this mornin', so I shut it off to save it."

"Good thinking," said Treville. "If yours dies, you can turn on his. Yes, keep trying to find help; we can track you while you have a signal."

"I just hope I don't lose it again," Porthos told him.

"So do we!" d'Artagnan piped up.

"We'll hang up now, so you can save your battery," said Treville. "We'll text you updates. Let us know when Aramis wakes."

"Okay," said Porthos. "See you soon, I hope!"

"See you."

With that, the call ended.

Porthos felt hope now, which lent him a burst of strength, and he lifted Aramis and continued walking. "Did you hear that, Aramis?" he said. "They know where we are."

No answer.

"This is the quietest you've ever been since the day we met!" Porthos said. "Sometimes you talk too much, but now it's really boring not hearin' you talk."

A sudden, soft moan filled the air.

"Aramis!" Porthos said, putting him back down. "Wake up! Wake up wake up wake up!" He grabbed his shoulders and shook him, and was rewarded when Aramis' eyes slowly opened.

"Thank God!" Porthos said. "Keep your eyes open, Aramis!"

But Aramis immediately closed them.

Porthos' phone beeped an incoming text message but he ignored it, shaking his friend harder. "Not again, Aramis! Look at me!"

Aramis reopened his eyes, but only half-way. He looked very dazed, his breathing still too shallow.

"Aramis," Porthos said. "Say somethin'."

He didn't even appear to try. His eyes kept falling closed and reopening again, as if he was trying to stay awake, but couldn't.

"Come on, Aramis," said Porthos, tapping his face. "Stay with me." He suddenly realized that though his friend's eyes were open—however slightly—he wasn't looking at him. "Aramis?"

He received no answer. Aramis' eyes closed again and remained that way.

Porthos sighed and hung his head for a moment, before remembering that someone had texted him. He picked up the phone and saw that it was from Athos.

_We just received a ransom demand for you._

Porthos' eyebrows shot up. _For how much?_ he texted back.

_5 million_

Porthos made an incredulous sound. _What! Who are they?_

_Unknown_

Porthos shook his head, before looking at Aramis again to find his eyes still closed. _Aramis just almost woke again. He opened his eyes this time but couldn't stay awake._

_Good, that's progress._

Porthos realized that was true.

Athos continued: _Just keep going; if they come back and find you missing, they'll search for you._

Porthos knew that very well. _I will…I gotta save NY 5 mil!_

_I'll let you know if we find out anything else._

_Thanks,_ Porthos texted back. He picked up Aramis again—in his arms instead of over his shoulder, so he could see if he opened his eyes again—and continued on.

TBC

*'Internal War' story ID 12593703


	2. Lost

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Aramis wondered when he'd boarded a ship and where on earth he was going. The swaying was making him feel sick, and he gave a miserable groan.

"Aramis!"

Awful pain suddenly spread through his head, and he closed his eyes, not even knowing when he'd opened them.

"Hey, stay awake," he heard next.

_No,_ he answered in his mind. He tried to say it aloud but his mouth wouldn't open.

"Aramis, look at me."

The command had him automatically open his eyes, and he found Porthos' face above him.

"Hey!" Porthos said. "Are you finally with me?"

Aramis drowsily blinked, still unable to speak. His stomach suddenly did a flip when he found himself floating towards the ground, and his head started to violently spin.

Porthos frowned when Aramis groaned again; it was a very distressed sound that Aramis—always the type to hide how bad he felt—hardly ever made. "Sorry, sorry!" he said, gently leaning his friend back against a tree.

Aramis' eyes were tightly closed again and he was breathing heavily.

Porthos gripped his friend's shoulder as he rode out whatever was physically bothering him. It took a good while before Aramis' breathing slowed down a little, but he kept his eyes closed. His face was very pale.

"I'm right here, Aramis," Porthos said. "I'm gonna let go of you for a minute to text Athos, but I'm still here, okay?"

Aramis gave no reply.

Porthos sighed as he let go of his friend and took out his phone, opening a group text to include Treville and d'Artagnan.

_Aramis is awake but in bad shape. I dunno if he's in pain or dizzy or what, but he can't answer me. He's pale and breathing heavy._

The next text came from Treville. _Probably both. Keep an eye on him in case he becomes ill._

Porthos grimaced at that. _We haven't eaten since last night, there would be nothing for him to bring up._

Athos: _Did you find civilization?_

_No, _Porthos answered. He looked at Aramis again, to see that his breathing had calmed a little. _We might be stuck where we are for a while if Aramis is too sick to continue._

D'Artagnan: _The GPS shows you going in the right direction now._

Porthos was relieved. _That helps._ He looked at Aramis to see his eyes open, blinking drowsily. _His eyes are open again but he doesn't seem all there in the head._

_We're in the air, _Treville sent. _Just hold on. Does he know that we're coming?_

_I'm not sure if he understands anything, _Porthos texted back. "Aramis? Athos and the others are on their way," he said.

Aramis said nothing, and didn't even look him in the eye. He simply sat slumped against the tree, tiredly blinking.

_I just told him, but he didn't react at all,_ Porthos texted.

Treville: _Keep talking to him, maybe your voice will help bring him out of it._

Porthos sighed. _I will. _He put down the phone and grabbed Aramis by his upper arms. "Hey, Aramis? Can you hear me?"

Aramis still didn't react.

"Can you see me?"

Still nothing. Aramis' eyes were glazed and half-open, and they closed more and more each time he blinked.

Porthos frowned when he suddenly felt an unnatural heat coming through Aramis' shirt. He placed a hand on his friend's forehead and found that he was very hot. "What the?!" he said. He grabbed his phone.

_Aramis has a fever!_

Treville: _Not surprising…whatever drug they gave you two is obviously causing him an extreme reaction._

Porthos' stomach was full of nervous butterflies. _So you think he's allergic?_

_Possibly,_ Treville replied. _Or maybe they accidentally overdosed him on whatever it is._

_What do I do?! _Porthos texted back.

Athos: _Are you still surrounded by nothing but trees?_

_Yes._

Athos: _Then there's nothing you can do._

Porthos dropped his hands in his lap, looking at Aramis, whose eyes were still slightly open. _He's just sitting here staring at nothing._

Treville: _We'll be there in an hour. If you don't think you'll be able to find help by then, just stay put. _

_Okay._

Porthos put his phone back down and scooted to sit beside Aramis. He realized that his friend was shivering, so he wrapped an arm around him and pulled him closer. "You're gonna be all right, Aramis," he said. "Just hold on. We'll be home soon…after a visit to the hospital."

Aramis said nothing.

Porthos sighed and closed his eyes, nearly dozing off eventually…until Aramis suddenly moved.

"Ahhh! Ow!"

Porthos jumped, shocked to find Aramis curling himself against his side with both hands on his head. "Aramis!"

Another cry of pain came from his friend. "Be quiet!" Aramis said, clutching his head.

Porthos tried to move Aramis out of his curled position so he could see into his face, but didn't have much success. "Aramis?"

"My head!"

Porthos winced, realizing that his friend had the mother of all headaches. "Are you all right?" he whispered, relieved that his friend had finally come to his senses.

"Do I…look…all right?!"

Porthos pulled him against his chest and rubbed his back. "Take it easy," he said.

Aramis said nothing else, shivering against his friend as he dealt with the pain. It felt like a hundred people were swinging hammers inside his skull.

Porthos was quiet, not wanting his voice to make it worse.

It seemed forever before Aramis spoke again. "Where...are we?"

"We've been kidnapped and dropped in Canada," Porthos said, quietly. "You've been unconscious all day after bring drugged, I assume."

Aramis didn't react to that, which showed how much pain he was in.

"The others are coming," Porthos told him. "Just hold on." He let go of him with one hand to grab his phone.

_Aramis is awake and seems to have his marbles, but has an agonizing headache. I don't think we'll be moving from here._

Treville: _Just stay put. Does he know that we're coming?_

_Yes_

_Good_

Porthos put his phone down and wrapped his other arm around his friend as Aramis continued to shiver, from a combination of his fever and the pain.

It was a good twenty minutes before Aramis shifted a little, and Porthos loosened his hold. "Feeling better?"

"A little," Aramis answered. "What happened?"

Porthos explained it all. "Whatever they gave us hit you really hard. What do you have besides the headache?"

Aramis sighed. "Everything is spinning," he admitted. "My stomach isn't happy and my muscles feel like lead."

Porthos reached over to feel his forehead. "You have a fever, too. Just rest; they'll be here soon."

Aramis said nothing, and Porthos' phone blipped an incoming text.

Athos: _How's Aramis?_

_Head and stomach are bothering him_, Porthos replied. _Still has fever and he's weak as a wet noodle._

Athos: _We'll be there in half an hour._

_Thank God_. A message suddenly popped up on his screen saying that his battery power was only 10%. _My phone is dying, I'll get Aramis'._ He took it out and turned it on, watching the screen come to life.

A minute later, Athos texted again. _Did you do it? We aren't receiving a signal._

Porthos' stomach felt like it dropped out of his body when he saw that Aramis' phone was indeed getting no reception. _It's not working!_ he texted. _No signal! _Would they have to start walking again? He knew that Aramis couldn't handle that.

"What's wrong?"

Porthos looked at Aramis, seeing him still grasping his head while looking at him. "My phone is dying, but yours has no signal for them to track!"

Aramis blinked. "Oh crap."

"Yeah, 'oh crap'!" Porthos exclaimed. "I _told_ you to switch your cell phone company!"

"But I _like_ my android phone!" Aramis replied. "Iphones are a pain in the…owwww!" He closed his eyes and clutched his head tighter.

Porthos was instantly contrite. "Sorry…stay here, don't move." Porthos stood and walked a little, keeping Aramis within sight as he tried to see if the phone would pick up a signal.

Aramis clenched his jaw as pain continued to rip through his head, and he winced when he heard Porthos' phone receive a text. He opened his eyes to look at it, wincing at the brightness of the screen. He picked it up with a shaky hand and squinted at it as he lowered the brightness.

Athos: _What's going on? _

_He's trying to find a signal, _Aramis texted back.

_Aramis?_

_Yes_

_Are you all right?_

Aramis had to close his eyes; the pain was horrible and his head was still spinning. _No_, he texted back to the others' dismay. _Pain. Can't text._

_We're coming, just hold on._

_K_

Aramis dropped the phone to the ground and curled up on the grass, unable to sit up anymore.

Porthos glanced from the phone to Aramis again, and saw him lying on the ground. "Aramis!" he exclaimed.

Aramis raised one hand and waved it to him to show that he was conscious.

Porthos had no luck with the phone no matter where he walked, so he hurried back to his friend. "Aramis?"

"Shush!"

Porthos sighed and squeezed his friend's shoulder, before picking up his phone and seeing the messages. _I'm back, can't find a signal on his phone._

Treville: _Stay where you are, so if your phone dies, we'll still know where to find you._

_Okay. Hurry._

_We will._

Porthos put his phone down and sighed, putting a hand on Aramis' back and rubbing it comfortingly as he continued to shiver.

Ten minutes later, Porthos heard the sound of a helicopter. _I hear you!_

Treville: _We're looking for somewhere to land._

Porthos looked up and saw a searchlight between the trees. _You're going right over us._

_We'll be there soon._

_Thank God!_ He looked at Aramis, realizing that he hadn't reacted to the sound. "They're almost here! Aramis?"

No reaction.

Porthos shined his phone on Aramis' face, to find his eyes closed in unconsciousness. He felt a spark of fear fill his stomach, but he found his friend's heart still beating, and sighed with relief.

A minute later, light filled the air…but it came from the opposite direction of the helicopter.

Porthos quickly texted: _Is that light from you?_

And with that, his phone died.

TBC


	3. Found

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"Nooooo!" Porthos said when his phone shut itself off. "Now? _Really_?!" He suddenly realized that he could hear a car engine, making it obvious that the approaching people weren't his friends. The flashlight also made it obvious that they were looking for something…two missing hostages, perhaps?

"Aramis," he whispered. "You gotta get up!" He got his arms under his friend and lifted him, moving further into the trees. He headed back the way that he came, hoping that the men would pass them and continue on.

"A phone!" a voice suddenly called.

With shock, Porthos realized that he'd dropped his phone to lift Aramis. A few seconds later, another voice called out.

"I can see you! Turn around or I'll shoot."

Porthos felt his heart skip a beat, and he slowly turned to see four men pointing guns at them.

"Is he dead?" the same man asked, shining his flashlight into Porthos' face.

"No," Porthos answered, instinctively wincing and ducking his head. "What did you give him?"

"The dose that was obviously meant for _you, _I guess," he answered. "You were both only supposed to remain unconscious while we were gone."

"Who _are_ you?" Porthos asked, trying to stall until the others could reach them.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" the man laughed. "You can refer to me as Mr. Badguy." He laughed before walking closer. "Now get in the truck, or we leave your friend behind…with a bullet in him."

Porthos took a deep breath before slowly waking over to the black SUV, trying to not seem obvious as he looked around for the others. Before he put Aramis into the truck, he stopped and looked at the man. "Mr. Badguy," he said, still trying to stall. "You could at least tell me why you picked _us_ to kidnap."

"Stop stalling," Mr. Badguy replied. "Get in."

Porthos looked around again before carefully sitting Aramis inside the vehicle and sticking one leg in to get inside himself.

Suddenly, gunshots filled the air and the other men fell.

Porthos pushed the door into Mr. Badguy, who fell to the ground, raising his gun to shoot, but Porthos dove on him and wrestled for the gun, getting it away from him easily and punching him in the face. He immediately reached into the car to get Aramis out, and was surprised when his friend gave a sudden gasp as he woke.

"Porthos!" he heard.

"Over here!" he shouted, before wincing in sympathy when Aramis gave a cry of pain from the sound. "The others are here, Aramis!" he said, pulling him out and sitting him on the ground. "We're saved!"

Aramis said nothing, grasping his head and curling forward.

Porthos held onto him tightly, looking up when the others reached them.

"Is he all right?" Treville asked, dropping to his knees and reaching out to grab Aramis' arms.

"He has the headache of the century," Porthos told him.

Aramis was gasping, resisting when Treville tried to look into his face.

Athos and d'Artagnan watched Aramis for a moment before quickly heading to tie up the badguys, in case one of them woke and started shooting again.

"We need to take him to a hospital," Porthos said.

Treville sighed. "We're all here illegally…we'll have to cross the border back to America first."

"No…hospital…" Aramis suddenly said. "Home."

The others gave him incredulous looks.

"Yeah, that's not happenin', Aramis," Porthos told him.

The badguys were thrown into the SUV wherever they could fit, and they all got inside and drove to the helicopter. Once they were in the air, Aramis' condition unexpectedly worsened.

"Oh crap," he moaned, from where he sat slumped against Porthos.

"What's wrong?"

Aramis couldn't even answer, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. The loudness of the helicopter blades was increasing the pain, and the dizziness was growing worse from being in the air.

It was a tense flight over the border as Aramis suffered physically and the others suffered mentally while they watched him, unable to do anything to help their friend.

D'Artagnan found the site of the nearest hospital in Champlain, NY and Treville called it on his phone, telling them that they were landing on the roof and asking for a team to be ready for them.

The doctors were there and didn't hesitate as they hurried over to take charge of their new patient.

Treville explained the situation and the doctor—a woman—was sympathetic.

"We'll take care of him, don't worry," she said.

"Hey look, Aramis," Porthos said, squeezing his friend's shoulder where he lay on the gurney, curled up on his side. "Your doctor's a lady!"

In different circumstances, Aramis would've been the charming gentleman to the female doctor, but he was in too much pain to even acknowledge Porthos' words. The moving gurney was too much to handle, and he kept his eyes tightly shut.

Everyone was told to wait as Aramis was whisked through forbidden doors. They passed the time by asking Porthos what happened.

He explained everything to them, and ended his narration with a sigh. "All that, and I don't even know _why_."

"As soon as one of the perps wakes up, he'll be thoroughly questioned," said Treville.

Fifteen minutes later, a doctor came into the room. "One of your prisoners escaped," he said.

Porthos jumped to his feet. "Which one?!"

"The one who'd been punched," said the doctor.

"He was the leader!" said Porthos. "Start a search for him!"

"It's too late," said the doctor. "He's been gone for at least ten minutes; it took this long for someone to get here to tell you."

"ARGH!" Porthos exclaimed, throwing his hands up into the air. "After what he did to Aramis, he gets away?!"

"Calm down!" said Treville. "There's nothing we can do! There's still the other two men; one of them will rat him out."

"If they survive their gunshot wounds!" said Porthos.

Athos and d'Artagnan shot each other concerned looks; both of their bullets had hit the men in potentially-lethal places.

Another half-hour later, the female doctor finally came to see them. "Aramis should be fine," she said.

Everyone nearly melted with relief.

"What was he given?" Athos asked.

The doctor shook her head. "An extreme overdose of a very strong sedative; enough to knock out all _four_ of you. He's still in quite a bit of pain, but I'm reluctant to give him anything stronger than tylenol with what's already in his system."

The others sighed at that, even though they understood.

"We can see him, right?" d'Artagnan asked.

She nodded. "This way."

They all followed her, and Porthos suddenly said. "He wasn't able to take his thyroid pill today."

The doctor looked alarmed and stopped walking. "Is he hypo or _hyper_?"

"Hypo," Porthos told her.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

Everyone nodded.

"He takes levo-something," Porthos said.

The doctor looked relieved and resumed walking. "Levothyroxine. Yes for hypothyroidism. There's no harm in missing a dose. If he'd been _hyper_, we would've had a problem."

"We know all about that already," said Athos.

They filled her in on the other mishaps that Aramis'd had concerning his medicine* and she shook her head. "I'm still waiting for copies of his medical records," she told them. "Nothing has come over the fax for him yet."

"That's probably because no fax machine can handle the load," Treville said, with a sigh.

They arrived and walked into the room, to find Aramis lying on his side in the bed with a saline IV in one arm. His eyes were tightly closed.

Porthos lightly squeezed his arm. "Hey," he whispered.

Aramis opened his eyes. "Hey."

"Is the pain any better?" Treville asked.

Aramis tiredly sighed. "A little."

They were relieved at that.

"You…caught the men?" Aramis quietly asked, his gaze settling on Athos.

"We did," he said.

"Any answers?"

"Not yet," he answered. He hesitated before continuing. "We were just told that the leader escaped from the hospital."

Aramis' eyes opened wider. "And the others?"

"Both shot and receiving treatment," said Treville.

Aramis said nothing else, closing his eyes again.

It was a very quiet morning in that room as they let Aramis rest undisturbed. The doctor, upon learning that Porthos had also been drugged, took his blood too and reported that there was a much smaller amount in his bloodstream.

"Significantly less," she told them. "More like just a residual amount, compared to your friend."

"They told me that Aramis got _my_ dose," Porthos said. "They must've thought me a giant."

"You do outweigh him by what, thirty pounds?" she said.

"Hey!" Porthos couldn't help but protest. "Twenty-five."

"Forty," d'Artagnan piped up.

Porthos shot him a look before chuckling. He winced at the sound and looked at Aramis to make sure he hadn't woken him. "It's all muscle, see?" He flexed his biceps.

The doctor nodded. "Your body metabolized it quickly, but with your friend having hypothyroidism, his body is doing it much slower, especially with such a higher dose."

Porthos sighed.

"Do you know if either of our prisoners are able to be questioned yet?" Treville asked her.

"I'll find out for you," the doctor said, before leaving.

Everyone stared at Aramis as he slept, quietly waiting for the doctor to come back.

"I have bad news," she told them. "One of them died and the other is still in critical condition."

Porthos looked at Treville. "If the other one dies, we'll never find out who the leader is!"

"Who died?"

Everyone looked towards Aramis, whose eyes were open.

"Hey!" Porthos exclaimed. "How you feeling?"

"Better," Aramis told them.

They could see that it was true; his eyes were open all the way and his expression wasn't pinched.

"You certainly _are_ looking better, Mr. d'Herblay," the doctor said, checking his vitals.

D'Artagnan waited until she finished before asking, "Can he go home yet?"

"I want to check his blood before any decision is made," she said. "I'll send in the girl."

Aramis yawned after she left. "One of our kidnappers died?"

"Yes," said Athos. "There is only one left, and his condition is critical."

Aramis sighed. "We may never find out what this was all about."

Everyone shook their heads.

Aramis' blood was drawn and the doctor opted to keep him until the evening. When she brought his discharge papers, she commanded them to take Aramis to a hotel for the night before returning to New York City. "It's a five hour drive," she said. "He won't be comfortable."

They saw her point and headed to the closest hotel.

"Maybe we should stay here for a few days for Aramis' sake," said Porthos, as they studied the room-service menu. "It's a lot cooler up here than at home."

Treville looked at the pale and tired Aramis, reclined on the bed. "I think you're right. Plus, I want to question the kidnapper when he wakes."

They ordered some of almost everything and tried to make Aramis eat as much as possible; he was no longer feeling sick, but had admitted that his stomach still felt 'off'.

"I know exactly what you need," said Treville. He placed a tray over Aramis' lap that contained a plate of pasta that was lightly covered with butter and salt.

"Oh, perfect," Aramis told him. "Thank you."

They watched him as he slowly ate, glad that he was recovering.

D'Artagnan suddenly sighed audibly. "I wish we knew what this was all about."

"I don't think we'll find out," said Aramis. "Not soon, anyway."

Aramis was right; the next morning, they were notified that the other kidnapper had died without regaining consciousness.

As the helicopter had been flown back to NYC by the pilot, they rented an SUV to drive home, and it was a solemn ride.

D'Artagnan was mortified that neither of the kidnappers had survived their wounds. "I'm so sorry, Aramis!" he said.

Aramis gave him a pale smile. "It's not your fault that you have good aim. You did your job by shooting at them."

Athos, whose bullet had also killed one of the men, piped up from the driver's seat. "It's unfortunate, but there's nothing to be done for it now."

"But what about the man who escaped?" said d'Artagnan. "Will he come for you two again?"

Porthos reached over and squeezed his shoulder. "This is a dangerous job; we never know when someone might come after us."

"And there's no use in dwelling on it," said Aramis. "Besides, they made a simple ransom request for money, and said nothing about revenge for something or other. It may have been totally random that Porthos and I were grabbed."

D'Artagnan reluctantly nodded. "True."

Aramis gave him a smile, but a glance at Porthos told him that he was thinking something else entirely…something that Porthos couldn't get out of his head either.

"And we're _home_," Treville suddenly said from the front passenger seat.

Aramis looked out the window at the 'Welcome to New York City' sign. As they passed it, he knew that they _hadn't_ been kidnapped at random, or he wouldn't have been overdosed by getting Porthos' shot…

THE END

*'Trapped', story ID 12613288  
'Hostage Situation' story ID 13169807


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